EvaPrinceCharming

I don't know you. 

I knew your laugh and the way your eyes crinkled,

I knew that you loved chocolate and hated shrimp, 

I knew everything about you,

But I don't know you.

Not anymore. 

At school

we're doing a poetry unit.

"Oh cool, we write poetry all the time!"

My friend says.

What we didn't realize, though,

was that the teacher turned on the tap

to our inner selves

every twist of inadequacy's blade

(each one worse than the previous)

fell in a rhythmic order, one that your silence

carried in. did you hate me?

you'd never say so. so blindly, i never changed.